


Always the Exception

by LovingTheFandoms14 (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Bud Dean being an Asshole, Dubious Morality, I know the years don't line up, JD goes to the UK, JD is a Bi Disaster, JD is a Muggle, JD's Dad is an Asshole, Jason "J. D." Dean is Not a Villain, Jason ''J. D.'' Dean Lives, Jason blows up Wools eventually, Jason may blow up shit for Tom, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Mutual Agreeance on Bad Names, Nicknames, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Tom Riddle, Sane Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle is Confused, Tom Spares JD because JD shot him, Tom also spares JD because he hit him with a book, Tom may kill lots of people for Jason, Tom reads Muggle books, What's time?, You know that trope where people who hate their names let their s/o say it?, Young Tom Riddle, i don't care, killer boyfriends, self-indulgent fic, that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22213450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LovingTheFandoms14
Summary: JD is sent to Britain by his "dad" for unknown reasons, and the address he was given is for a home of someone who agrees to take care of him for a few days, even though he has no clue who the hell Bud Dean is. But then Lord Voldemort kills him, and JD shoots him and kills his follower who came with him, and hits him a few times with a book.Lord Voldemort doesn't spare Muggles, and JD doesn't really care about anyone but himself. But there will always be an exception to a rule, won't there?
Relationships: Tom "Marvolo" Riddle/Jason "J. D." Dean, Tom Riddle/Jason "J. D." Dean
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. Nietzsche is a Good Weapon

Jason wants to scream. His  _ father _ decided that they weren’t going to spend even a month in Ohio. Apparently the job was far to easy once he brought the idea of gays into negotiations and  _ boom _ . No more monument.

He’s so tired of moving all the time. He really thought that maybe, just maybe, this girl Veronica would be good for him. But no, they just had to move. Well, only Jason.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Jason was being sent to the UK. It’s not like he’s the reason there’s food or even a steady income, after all. In a strange way, it’s almost an indirect version of revenge.

So now Jason is standing in front of a house next to an orphanage were apparently someone who agreed to take care of him resides. He doesn’t even know how his father has connections to a foriegn country. He’s as patriotic and militaristic as one can get in America.

The door opens to show a man no older than 35. “Who the hell are you?” He asks sharply.

Jason sighs and looks back down at the slip of paper his father gave him and back at the house and street. It’s the right house. 

“I apologize if I’m intruding on your weekend. My father sent me here to stay until I am old enough to live on my own, I believe. He gave me this address, which is yours. If you don’t know my father, Bud Dean, then I will be on my way to find work and a place to stay. If Britain's economic system is at least as miserably decent as America’s, I will be fine.” Jason tells the man. He’d been worried that his father had given him a red herring, and it seems he was correct. Lucky him it took a while to travel here and Jason does not think mindlessly.

The man looks Jason up and down and looks at his bag hanging off his shoulder. “What’s in there?”

Jason opens the flap to show a few worn books, clothing, and travel sized necessities. He takes out one of the books, which happens to be his book on Nietzsche. “What you would expect in a travel bag along with a few light reads on psychology and philosophers. This one is actually one of my favorites.”

The man nods. “I do not know your father. However, it wouldn’t hurt to have you stay for a day or two until you get a job, I believe. Do you have the ability to go back to America?” He asks.

Jason shakes his head and the man steps aside and gestures for Jason to enter. He walks into the small house with a grateful nod.

He’s surprised to see the lack of technological objects. There’s no telephone, TV, or radio, at least. The man closes the door and leads Jason to a small bedroom.

“This is where you will stay. Remember, I’m not housing you for weeks, just a few days.” He says.

“Of course.” Jason nods. “I apologize again, I didn’t get your name. I’m JD.” He introduces.

“William Smith. Does JD mean anything?” William asks.

Jason glares at the bed. “Jason Dean, my name. But JD is the name I prefer.”

William nods when there’s another knock on the door. He pales. “JD, you need to hide. Now.” And he rushes out of the room. JD tilts his head and takes out one of his guns. He checks that it’s loaded before clicking off the safety and hiding in the closet. He aims the gun to the entryway, were the bullet should hit anybody with an average height in the upper leg or hip.

JD hears muffled talking. Two voices he can’t identify and one that is William. And a hiss. There’s a yell, and a flash of green, and a thud. Well, that’s a new thing. Is that a Britain thing?

Footsteps come closer to the bedroom JD’s hiding in, and he gets ready to fight the hell out of this house. A tall man in dark and flowey clothing walks in and holds up a stick. JD quickly ducks as he says some sort of language and shoots the man in his lower abdomen.

The man falls down in shock as JD vaults over the bed and steps directly on the hand holding the stick, making it fall to the ground. He lifts his gun and shoots a masked figure square in the chest and places his gun on the tall man’s head.

“Who the fuck are you?” JD spits. “And what the fuck did you just do?”

The man stares at JD with crimson eyes and starts laughing. He starts laughing like he just heard the funniest joke and moves his free hand. The gun shoots out of JD’s hand to the hallway and JD is thrown back on the bed on top of his bag. He takes out his Nietzsche book. 

The man picks up his stick and stalks towards JD. “No wizard has ever managed to make me bleed, and yet.” He waves the stick and the bullet comes out and the visible hole in his abdomen closes. “A muggle has given me what could have been a fatal wound and killed one of my men, along with disarming me. Too bad you can’t live.” And the stick is raised.

JD throws the book and it hits the man in the face. He takes out another one and jumps at the man and smacks it across his face.

“You talk too much. It’s like I’m back in high school, but which one is the real question?” JD grins down at the man with insanity as he pulls out another gun from his trenchcoat and turns off the safety. “You better hope I’m a bad man.”

The tall man stares at JD with some unknown emotion. “Are you sure you’re not a wizard?” He asks.

JD laughs. “Yes. Otherwise my  _ father _ would be dead for my mother.”

The man and JD stare at each other for long seconds, staying perfectly still.

“What makes you think you can kill me?” The man finally asks. “What if I’m immortal, or a god?”

JD smiles as if he had just heard the answer to all his problems. “Then I’ll shoot your head and cut you up like Westly would do to Prince Humperdinck, and I will have no issues with it. If I had the ability to, I would have blown up every school I ever went to since I was seven. I don’t care about your life, or anyone else’s. As you can see now, I am a bad man. Because you are still without lead in your skull.”

The man’s red eyes seem to glow with power. “There is always an exception, isn’t there?”

JD lets out a cackle. “That there is. And I don’t believe I will live long enough to find it.”

The man lowers his stick and takes a step towards JD, who cocks his gun in return. “I do believe I want to have a conversation with you, Muggle. On the grounds we do not harm each other.”

JD’s eyes narrow. “I keep my gun. Safety on. In my pocket. You leave your stick.” He agrees.

The man gives a light chuckle and places his stick next to JD’s bag. “It is my wand, Muggle. Now, let’s go sit in the dining room.” The man leaves, and JD follows to a room with a table with a few chairs

“Would you like something to drink?” The man asks, and JD feels pain fill his heart. No more 7-11. No more places to call home. JD guesses that he’s finally gone to a place meant to kill him.

“No. You wouldn’t have what I want, anyway.” He waves the man off. “There’s no 7-11 in Britain.” He says as he sees the man’s questioning look.

He nods and sits down, as does JD. “I’m just going to ask questions, and you will just ask questions. Does this sound fair, Muggle?”

JD nods. “Call me JD, not Muggle. Or call me Muggle, if you hate my name.”

The man sighs. “JD, then. I am Lord Voldemort.”

JD laughs. “Lord ‘Flight of Death’? Man, anyone who knows French must be so confused.” The man glares.

“Call me Marvolo, then. If you hate my name.” He tells JD, reusing his words.

“It is a title with the Lord. If you want my title, call me JD, son of a shit faced bastard. Oh! Or maybe Sir Pyromaniac Arsonist, if you want to get fancy.” JD says as he looks at the man.

The man glares at JD. “And JD isn’t a title the same way Voldemort is?”

“No.” JD answers. “It is my initials. But it’s better than my given name of Jason  _ Dean _ .” JD spits out his name with venom. “I do not wish to be connected to the man who pushed my mother to suicide.”

Marvolo sighs. “It seems we both hold grudges against our fathers and are without mothers. Where did you grow up?” He asks.

“All over America. We moved every three months or so. You?” JD answers.

“The orphanage next door. Where simple minded children attacked me for my prowess.” Marvolo hisses.

JD nods. “Rather sad, don’t you think? How the strong and intelligent are hated and belittled and then expected to make the world better for those who hurt them?”

Marvolo looks at JD, who’s brown eyes are glazed over in memories. JD shakes his head. “What brought you to that conclusion?” Marvolo queeries.

“Many people. My teachers, counselors, peers, most of all my father. The only good he’s ever done for me is to teach me how to blow things up, make bombs, and how to shoot. Why did you keep asking me if I was a wizard?” Jason leans forwards in curiosity.

Marvolo takes a deep breath. “Wizards are real. I am a wizard. In fact, I’ve been gathering followers and working on making all magic equal and bringing back traditions since the muggleborns have taken them away.”

JD tilts his head. “Muggleborns are like how the British and Spanish explorers killed over 75% of the native populations of the Americas, but for magic.” He deduces.

Marvolo nods. “Normally I would kill all Muggles that I come across. However, you seem different. You don’t want to kill wizards, nor do you hate magic. You attacked me and killed one of my followers out of self-preservation rather than radical prejudice. And you’ve agreed to have a conversation that’s revealed we have more in common than one would think. I only have one question left. Would you kill simply because someone told you to?”

JD thinks it over for a few moments. “Maybe. If it is someone who has my trust, and I have theirs, yes. If it is someone I love, without question. Otherwise, no, unless I want to. Are you going to kill me now?”

Marvolo smirks with mirth. “No.”


	2. You're Different Goddamn You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter for a shorter conversation. Also, in case anyone asks, yes. I know time stuff doesn't line up. This entire thing is self-indulgent for the nonexistent ship and crossover. Let me live my life with these two psychos, ok?

JD and Marvolo talk for a few more minutes. They talk about their shitty parents mostly. JD goes on about his mother and what lead her to her death, his father and his self destructive ways, the role reversal that seemed to be the only praise he could get in his life. 

Marvolo recalls his mother’s weakness, even though she had magic, and his father’s defiant indifference to his existence. And the orphanage.

JD wants to blow something up as Marvolo talks about what happened in the orphanage, and what Dumbledore had done. His anger is only evident in the cold gleam of his dark eyes and the barely perceptible tensing of his jaw and hands.

Marvolo almost revels in JD’s anger. He can feel his emotions like they are magic, and all he can taste is rage and destruction. He’s felt other’s anguish at the story of Wool’s, if they had been graced with the story, but they didn’t compare to the pure power of JD’s dangerous fury. If only he wasn’t a Muggle.

“You mentioned a girl.” Marvolo points out. “What would you have done with her?”

JD shakes his head. “There wasn’t much I could do at that point. She had joined the top of the pyramid before I got there, and stood with no way down. But if she had jumped off to me, well, there’s a lot of ways for that to go.”

“Would you have loved her?”

JD barks out a cold and sharp laugh. “That died with my mother.” He bites out. “All that’s left is brain freezes and explosions.”

Marvolo leans back and closes his eyes as resentment mixes with anger into something new. It’s better than any magic he’s ever felt.

“If you weren’t so unusual, I’d have killed you and left you to rot by now.” He notes out loud absentmindedly. “As with every other Muggle.”

JD shakes his head. “And what makes me different, hm? My charm, my intelligence, my insanity? I’m either average, lesser, or undesirable as deemed by society. There’s no reason for you to spare me.”

Marvolo opens his eyes and looks at JD. His crimson irises glimmer. “And what of society?”

JD looks at Marvolo with determined eyes as he tries to figure out how exactly to respond. “Nothing but empty shells.”

Marvolo’s face contorts into a sick grin. “You asked what makes you different. No mortal has disarmed me, much less wounded and nearly killed me since I was in school, and even then only in the early years. And yet you, a person with no magic to his name, not only killed one of my followers but put hardened lead in my gut and disarmed me not once but twice using only his wit.

“Furthermore, you agreed to have a peaceful conversation after the fact, one that isn’t full of fear and weak hopes for praise, however much I enjoy those ones. That, JD, makes you very different.” He tells JD, who seems to lay the words in front of him mentally and wonder if he should soak them in or leave them be.

JD stands. “As amusing as that is, I just got to a foreign country many hours away from home to go to a place not welcome to me. The person who agreed to keep me for a few days got killed and I had to use two bullets. I am exhausted beyond compare. I’ll probably stay a few more days, clean up, get rid of the bodies.The usual stuff.” He yawns, walking off to the spare bedroom, and Marvolo watches.

“You’ll be staying more than a few days, JD. That much I can swear.” He stands up and walks out of the house, levitating two hidden corpses behind him.


	3. So Time Isn't Real (and You'll See What I Mean)

JD wakes up from his sleep feeling surprisingly more rested than he had in months, no, years. He frowns down at his clothing that he had slept in, and shuffled through his bag finding a decent shirt and jeans.

After changing, he looks around to find a washing machine. As it turns out, there’s a basement in this house (seeing the state of it, probably an illegal one), and it has a safe hidden between a washer and dryer. 

JD makes himself a black coffee (thank God there’s even coffee in a British household) and goes back to try and open the safe. He feels like someone from Ocean’s 11 trying to unlock it, in a very weird way. He should watch that movie again.

If only this place had a TV. 

JD turns on the lights in the room, deciding relying only on the light from the entrance  _ probably _ isn’t the best idea, and sees more tech in the basement than any part of the house. Weird.

He looks around the room to try and relieve himself of the frustrations of a locked safe and finds a lot of movies and CD disks. He doesn’t know most of these, but a few of them he’s seen, or at least heard of. 

He can hear the front door open, and goes back to the basement entry and looks up. He sees Marvolo looking down at him with glittering red eyes.

“A hidden room. How interesting.” He muses, starting to come down the stairs. He suddenly stops and chuckles lowly. “Seems Smith actually knew how to use magic after all.” With that he walks back up and returns.

JD looks over Marvolo to try and see if he can discern what changed. “No wand.”

Marvolo nods. “Smith somehow got his hands on an anti-magic ward spell. Ironic, but strong. Probably why all this Muggle technology works.” He mutters as he looks at the washer that just finished rumbling.

JD moves his clothes to lay out to dry, not wanting to waste energy on one single outfit. “I was going to watch a movie. One I’ve already watched. There’s a few good ones here.” He mentions. “Something to distract me while I’m dealing with this.” He motions to the safe.

Marvolo looks at the TV and then the safe. “Why do you want to watch a movie? They’re all the same. Guy wants girl, guy gets girl, et cetera.” He sighs.

JD shakes his head. “First off, some of them are actually different. Second, the two I was going to choose are better than that.”

“And what would those be?”

“Princess Bride.” Marvolo scoffs in disgust. “Ocean’s 11 remake.”

Marvolo has the audacity to look surprised. “What?”

“Ocean’s 11. Heist movie. Really good. Great energy.”

“What’s with the short sentences, are you seven?”

“That’s how old you have to be to not know the movie exists.”

Marvolo rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever. Be glad the anti-magic wards are up, otherwise you’d be writhing on the floor begging for mercy.”

JD smirks. “I’d rather beg for death, but whatever.” He says casually, taking out the movie and putting it into the player.

Marvolo turns to leave but has a book hit the back of his head. He turns to see JD holding Lès Miseràbles with fire in his eyes. 

“You don’t leave until I say you do.” He orders, and Marvolo nods and sits on the small couch in front of the TV.

He looks at JD, who is determinedly trying to break open the safe, as the movie starts. “You are an interesting Muggle.” He mutters.

JD snorts and shakes his head. “Mhm, that’s definitely something I’ve  _ never _ heard before.” He retorts with heavy sarcasm. Marvolo frowns. “Every time someone says that, it’s an adult who wants to put me in a psychiatric ward.”

“Strange. I believe your point yesterday was correct. “The strong and intelligent are hated and belittled and then expected to make the world better for those who hurt them.” I believe it was.” He mentions, and JD gives a small hum of acknowledgement as the safe makes a ‘click’

“I have opened it!” He cheers and lifts the door to show bags of gold coins and more bags of British currency. George Clooney and Brad Pitt talk about some casino in the background as Marvolo counts the money in awe.

“That’s £768030.” He tells JD, who does some mental calculations before widening his eyes.

“I guess I’m not moving out for a while, huh?” He says in a daze.

Marvolo nods. “Now that we know you’re not going to be dying of starvation any time soon, get up here and watch this Muggle movie with me, since I can’t leave.”

JD sits next to Marvolo and punches his arm. “You’re implying that this isn’t a good movie, and you are wrong.”


End file.
